Want to give Hermione a run for her money in the know-it-all field? Simply play the quiz by commenting on this post with your answers at any time over the weekend. All comments with answers will be screened until the answer sheet is posted on Monday morning EDT. On Monday, all quizzlings with the correct answers will receive a pretty banner to prove their quiz prowess. Ready? Set? Play!
Match the quotes to the story titles without picking the red herring titles:
The Prince by hjsnapepm
Fridays With Severus by BewilderedFemale
A Series of Fortunate Events by crmediagal
Like the Muggles Do by fyiagcg WIP
New Beginning... A Chance for Love by ShilohDarke
The Trouble with Kneazles by thesporkwielder
Danse Macabre, or: Learning to Light a Fire by karelia
Anything For Him by Auror Borealis
The Best Sacrifice by celticreeder
Breathing Love by anogete
A Summer in York by cabepfir
True Identity by Chrmisha
1. "Aww, Tibbly-Wibbly," she cooed. "Is Toby being mean to you?" shooting a menacing glare at Severus, she said, "Poor Kitty-Poo. Come on; let me get you some yummy breakfast." Tibbles purred at that, and Mrs Figg shuffled out the door again. The other cats followed her, with the exception of the orange fluff ball which had been licking Severus' foot.
"Oh, and Toby?" Arabella said as she turned to glance back into the room.
Severus started, as he always did when hearing the alias he and Mrs Figg had decided on. You'd think after being a spy for twenty years, I would respond better to that damn name, he grumbled to himself. Especially since I've been using it for the past two years.
Mrs Figg's voice prevented him from any further reflection.
"Toby, how many times have I told you not to terrorise my poor cats? Oh, and make sure you're up in a few minutes; I need you to do the laundry today. Tinkles, dear little kitty that he is, isn't litter trained yet, and he used my good guest towels as a litter box! Silly kitty."
Severus glared down at the orange fluff ball. "Are you…Tinkles?" he asked it, lip curling in distaste as the animal's insipid name left his lips.
"Mew?" said the kitten, tilting its head sideways and flicking its tail.
2. Living as a Muggle led to a somber discovery for the wizard: he much preferred a quiet, non-magically enhanced life, far more than he probably ought to. Did he even belong in the Wizarding world anymore?
No, he'd conclude without emotion. Maybe that was the bottle talking, but it seemed to agree with him anyhow.
Another escape was in order. Today, that was the opening of a new bookshop-café combination in Bromley. The eclectic collection it boasted was said to be "extensive," according to some ruddy Muggle London newspaper Severus had snatched up on the streets the week before. Seeing as it was another ineffectual Saturday, which left the wizard with nothing to do except sort through the pile of mail on his doorstep that he normally avoided anyhow, he decided to step out in search of familiar friends: books and a decent cup of coffee.
Severus leisurely strolled outside, inhaling the morning air. His stride had slowed since the war's end, and he found the casual pace he could now exercise a welcoming change, indeed. No one ever took notice of the conspicuous, formidable wizard in this rundown neighborhood. No one had since he was a mere boy.
To Disapparate would be bloody helpful, he scowled, choosing instead to make his way towards the train station.
3. "Miss Granger?"
Her head quickly shot up in shock. "Professor?"
There was a brief pause before she asked: "You do realize this is a muggle shop don't you?"
His face quickly went from surprise and concern to his usual snide smirk. "Of course I know! Why do you think I'm here?"
"To be honest sir, I would never have expected to come across you here."
"And that is precisely why I'm here, because no one would ever think to find me here, and I can hopefully have a few hours of leisure, but.. maybe I ask for too much.."
Hermione saw him eyeing the chair across from her and realized he would not ask to sit unless invited. "Sir, there are no more seats in the area I assure you. People come in to take a break from the madness of shopping, or simply to warm up from the cold outside. I will not bother you if you sit as I myself am reading."
Not a word came out from his lips as he quickly pulled out the seat across from her and made himself comfortable. She in turn went back to her book, and to his surprise; she did not seem to feel the need to break the silence. She simply sat there engrossed in whatever she was reading.
Why was he stealing glances of her in between paragraphs?
4. "That's a wonderful book, Professor. I, at times, could see the story of The Scarlet Pimpernel paralleling your life."
Severus knew that voice. His head snapped up and around with such a force that he stumbled backwards. Her hands reached out and grabbed his arms to keep him from crashing into the bookshelf behind him.
"Miss Granger!" he gasped his voice strangely hoarse and choked sounding.
She smiled softly at him and nodded. "Yes, that's me. You must not have been expecting to see me here."
"I wasn't expecting to see you at all." Severus swallowed several times and closed his eyes briefly to get his bearings back together. "Where the hell have you been? You have not finished your magical education. Therefore, you should not be out and about like this. Just because you were allowed to use magic in the war does not mean you are a qualified witch. Why have you not returned to Hogwarts?" Severus knew he was not speaking rationally but the shock at seeing her alive and well was not sitting well in his system at the moment.
Her smile faded and she looked away. "I'm afraid I won't be returning. I can't."
"Of course, how could I forget? You're wand was broken during the war so of course you won't have been able to get to Diagon Alley to purchase a new one. Well, if you are free this afternoon, then I shall take you to Ollivander's so that you may…" Severus turned to put the book he had been holding back on the shelf but Hermione's hand on his arm stopped him mid-action and mid-sentence.
"No, Professor, you don't understand. I can not return to the Wizarding world."
5. Helen shut the door behind her just as a deep baritone voice sounded.
Her eyes wide, she plastered herself against the back of the door, grabbing the oval locket that hung around her neck. Hidden inside was her miniaturized wand. A quick enlargement charm would restore it to its original size should she need it.
He was sitting on the couch studying her.
“Professor Snape! You startled me!” Her heart was still pounding wildly as she looked at him. Regaining her composure, she rushed to his side. “How are you feeling? I wasn’t expecting you up so soon.”
“I’ve felt better in my life,” he admitted, rolling his aching shoulders and stretching his back to ease the knots of tension there.
“Can I get you anything to eat or drink? You must be starving.”
As he opened his mouth to respond, she saw the telltale signs of another spasm coming on. “Try and relax,” she coached him, taking his fisting hand in hers and working quickly to ease the muscles. When the spasm finally passed, he was watching her with a wary expression on his face. Immediately, she let go of his hand and stepped back.
Averting her eyes, she spoke quickly. “I’m sorry, that was inappropriate. It’s just… well… you’ve been suffering those spasms for days now and it seemed like when I massaged your muscles it helped ease the pain. Nonetheless, I shouldn’t have been so presumptuous as to assume––”
6. Hermione pulled the hood of her light coat over her head as she stepped out into the misty rain that had been falling for hours. It wasn’t yet eight o’clock, but the sky looked as if it were nearing midnight. The cool air felt good on her flushed face while she hurried down the pavement, looking for the neon sign that denoted the café. Jogging the last few meters to the door, she prepared to duck inside the cozy store. Instead, she stopped and stared through the blurry storefront with absolute shock.
Sitting in the far corner of the small shop was a man who very strongly resembled Severus Snape. His black hair was haphazardly pulled back revealing the harsh lines of his face and hooked nose. He appeared to be dressed in black from head to toe and was hunched over a newspaper resting on the small table. Just as he looked up to scan the windows, Hermione pulled away and slammed her back into the brick wall next door. Her chest heaved with every breath she managed to suck in.
It was impossible. Severus Snape was dead. He had died over five years ago on the dusty floorboards of the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade. There was no possible way he could be sitting in a small café blocks from her flat. Trying to still her trembling hands, she pushed off the wall and turned to go home, afraid to even risk another look at what could only be a ghost.
7. “Miss Granger,” said Snape softly, “you wear glasses now.”
Yes, I wear glasses now – the result of too many hours spent reading with insufficient light – but then when was the last time we met? Hermione wondered. She hadn’t seen him for years, at least since the fifth anniversary of Voldemort’s defeat in 2003, where he had made a brief appearance and had left before dinner. He didn’t come to the tenth anniversary in 2008, and frankly, she couldn’t care less at that time, with all of Weasley family still staring at her begrudgingly. Seriously, after all those years! Their reproving looks had ruined what could have been a happy night of celebration. And they made it harder for her to act politely toward Ron.
She knew that Snape had lost his magic after Nagini’s bite, and in fact it was a miracle he had survived at all. But when those events had happened, Hermione had enough personal problems to think about anything else beside herself. He had simply slipped out of her mind, as many other people and facts had done through the years.
And now he was there, in that very Muggle public library, handing her the book he had been consulting.
He looked a little older than she remembered. There were stray grey streaks in his hair now, and there were a few more wrinkles around his eyes and across his cheeks, but he seemed somewhat calmer than he used to be – his eyebrows looked more relaxed, and the sneer wasn’t there anymore. He was wearing a dark grey cotton shirt, buttoned down to his wrists.
“Miss Granger,” he said with the same soft voice, “would you mind giving me my visitor’s card, please?”
Hermione realized she was still fixing him with wide eyes and her mouth half opened in amazement. She shut her mouth, gulped, and handed him back his card.
“O-of course, sir,” she managed to mumble.
8. It got so bad for her near the end that Hermione found herself envying Severus Snape. She had no proof he was still alive, just a missing body and the hope that maybe he was out there somewhere and that he'd found some peace. Peace he would never find in the post-war wizarding world, where there was a weekly column in the Prophet dedicated solely to Snape Sightings.
Envying this fantasy Snape for his imagined freedom was the last straw for her. She told only Ginny Weasley about her plan to leave—and she told her only because she was afraid Harry would have a search party after her if she simply disappeared—and swore her to secrecy about her destination. She quietly emptied her account at Gringotts, collected everything she knew she couldn't do without in her beaded bag, and set out for parts unknown.
Well, Muggle London was not exactly unknown, but it was certainly large enough and busy enough to allow her to blend in and fade into the background for a while.
Did she miss the wizarding world? Sometimes. She missed her friends, sure, and the freedom to do magic wherever and whenever she liked. What she didn't miss were the stares, the constant questions, the expectations...
9. Both saw things that the other did not, they knew. Different details and peculiarities caught their attention, and the pair looked forward to pointing out as well as being exposed to the myriad of effects they hadn’t jointly noticed.
Neither was in a rush to step away from the expansive bookshelf covering one wall, despite the unexplored hallway leading off of this main room. Severus was seriously considering picking a tome and settling in, uninterested in the rest of the flat. Hermione noticed the hallway but once her eyes swept over the books available, she stood dumbstruck. Both stared at the wall of bookshelves, imagining that living like a Muggle couldn’t be too bad, now that they had subsequent reading material.
Finally their curious natures managed to win over their bibliophilic tendencies and Severus led Hermione through the doorway and into a long hallway with five doors, two to each side and one directly ahead. Hermione chose the first door to her left, leaving Severus to explore the room across the hall on his own.
Displeased with herself for her automatic urge to cast Lumos in the dark room, Hermione felt along the wall to the side of the doorway and flipped the switch she found. A light in the ceiling came on and she was able to take in her surroundings.
10. When he looked as if about to explode, she added quickly, “Look, I know what it’s like to lose ties with the Muggle world. The main reason I moved into this neighbourhood—aside from needing to be away from the Weasleys—was to maintain a connection with it. Being Muggle-born, I’ve never been entirely at home in the wizarding or the Muggle world, so I can well imagine that someone who grew up with one foot in either culture would eventually choose the wizarding world entirely. If you have any idea how I can help you with the Malfoys settling in the Muggle world, I’ll do what I can.”
To her surprise, Snape looked defeated, not a trait she’d thought he was familiar with. “They know nothing about the Muggle world, Miss Granger. Nothing. Until a couple of weeks ago, Narcissa had no idea how to make tea or coffee. Lucius has been attempting to light a fire all day long and has nothing to show aside from a growing number of empty match boxes. Neither can cook. They didn’t even know how to use a bloody phone to order a delivery from a restaurant. Simple, everyday things you and I grew up with and never even thought about are entirely alien to them, and there’s nobody there to guide them along. And of course, the Malfoys are far too proud to ask for any help. It took me an hour to convince them to move into the cottage I own so they wouldn’t end up homeless on the street.”
Hermione took a deep breath. Her heart went out to the Malfoys—had when she’d learned about the verdict—but it was beyond her to imagine just how much they were struggling. “Oh, gods, I had no idea...” She was lost for words.